by Jan Drexler
Eli went into the house while Cap headed for the road. If Eli was right, he wasn’t sure Naomi would get over this one. He didn’t understand her at all.
“Do you think Jethro will remember me, Memmi? Will he?”
Davey bounced as he walked, shaking the hand he held with every step.
“I’m sure he’ll remember you. He did when you saw him on Monday, didn’t he?”
“But he’s such a little lamb. And little ones forget easily. That’s what Grossmutti says.”
Naomi’s head hurt, and the jerks on her arm were making it worse. She was tempted to let go of his hand and let him run ahead, but that would mean that Cap was right. He could discipline him and she couldn’t.
“Davey, can you walk instead of bounce?”
His answer was another bounce, a bit gentler than the last one.
“How do you walk with Cap?”
“You mean like this?”
He let go of her hand and matched her steps. The bounce was gone. Her head throbbed.
“I see Jacob.” Davey turned his sweet face up to look into hers. “Can I run ahead now? May I?”
Naomi nodded and he took off. How could she refuse his request when he looked at her that way?
And there was the problem. Cap was right. She couldn’t discipline him. He was becoming spoiled, and she would have to deal with it soon.
Was Cap right about the other? That she worshiped Davey?
Her steps slowed as she watched Davey run up to Jacob. The boy jumped up and down, pestering Jacob until he stopped his work and let the boy into the barn where their new baby ram was kept. Naomi bit her lip. If Henry had acted like that when he was Davey’s age, Daed would have taken the switch to him.
But Henry would never have acted like that. Davey was different.
Her feet were planted in the ground as she faced this thought. Was Davey different because he was born that way, or was he different because of how she had raised him?
She turned toward Mattie’s house. Mamm had sent a loaf of bread and Naomi needed to deliver it before she went to the barn to see the lambs.
The door was closed. That was unusual for such a pleasant day. Mattie loved to leave the top half of her Dutch door open to let the breezes into the house. Naomi opened it part way.
“Mattie?” She took a step into the kitchen and set the bread on the table. “Mattie?”
“I’m here.”
Mattie’s voice came from the back bedroom. Naomi pushed at the half-closed door. The shutters were closed and the room was dim. Mattie was on the bed, lying on top of the covers in her everyday dress.
“Mattie?”
A sob answered her and Naomi sat on the edge of the bed.
“What’s wrong?”
Her sister sniffed. “It’s gone. The baby.”
Mattie’s voice held a painful edge that Naomi had never heard before. She laid a hand on Mattie’s shoulder. “What can I do?”
Her sister’s hands gripped the bed cover. “Nothing.” She cried harder, with wracking sobs. “There’s nothing . . . anyone can do.”
Naomi sat, helpless. Mattie’s cries brought her own tears to the surface. The baby that Mattie had waited so long for . . . dead? This precious tiny life . . . gone?
“Mattie, talk to me.” Naomi pushed Mattie’s loose hair away from her face. “Don’t shut yourself in like this.”
“I just want it to go away. I want it to be a bad dream, but it isn’t.”
“Do you want me to get Jacob?”
Mattie shook her head. “Jacob has been so patient. He says there is nothing we could have done to save her.”
“When did this happen?”
“Monday night.”
Naomi rubbed Mattie’s shoulder. Four days ago.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone? Why didn’t you send Jacob to get help?”
Mattie sat up and clung to Naomi. “I didn’t want anyone with me except Jacob. It was awful. Terrible.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “The baby was born, but she—” Mattie buried her face in Naomi’s shoulder. “She was so, so small. So little. So perfect. She died before she could even live.”
Naomi held Mattie close and let her cry. In the face of such suffering, what else could she do?
Mattie wiped at her eyes. “Jacob dug a grave for her at the edge of the woods.” She blew her nose on a handkerchief. “I never thought we would bury one of our family so soon.” She blew her nose again and sniffed. “We buried her where she could look over the prairie . . .”
She turned the handkerchief over in her hands, searching for a dry spot. Naomi got a clean one for her from the linen chest at the foot of her bed. She handed the scrap of cloth to Mattie. There must be something she could do to help her feel better.
“Can I open the window for you? It’s a beautiful day outside.”
Mattie wiped her eyes with the dry handkerchief. She shook her head at Naomi’s suggestion. “Nothing is beautiful today.”
“Can I make dinner for Jacob? Mamm sent some bread.”
Mattie grasped her hand. “Don’t tell Mamm . . . about this. She didn’t know we were expecting . . .” Another sob escaped and Mattie pressed the handkerchief to her mouth.
“But Mamm would know what to do. She would know how to help you.”
Mattie shook her head. “I d-don’t want anyone to know. They already think there is something wrong with me because I haven’t had a baby . . . and now . . .”
“But you need someone to share your sorrow.”
“You don’t understand. I lost my baby. I should be able to carry a baby, to protect it. But I couldn’t do that.” Mattie blew her nose again. “I failed to do the one thing a woman is supposed to do.”
“It isn’t your fault. It can’t be your fault.”
“I should have done something to save her.” Mattie stared at the handkerchief in her hand, twisting it into knots.
Naomi put her arms around Mattie again and held her. After Mattie’s breathing grew soft and deep, Naomi helped her lie on the bed again. She stood to open the shutter to let some fresh air into the stuffy bedroom. Through the window she could see a little mound of fresh earth on the hillside at the edge of the woods. Naomi caught her lower lip between her teeth.
When she turned back to the bed, Mattie’s eyes were open, staring into a distant place.
“You should sleep.” Naomi sat next to her on the bed again.
“All I’ve done is sleep.” Mattie didn’t look at her. “I need to make dinner for Jacob. I’ve neglected him so much.” She drew a deep breath that shuddered at the end. “I’m letting him down. He deserves better.”
Naomi squeezed her sister’s shoulder. “He needs a wife who is well and whole. You need to rest a few more days and get your strength back.”
Mattie looked at her then, her eyes dark. “I’ve never felt so empty, Naomi. Even before, when month after month went by with no child, I never felt as hollow as I do now.”
“You’ll have another child.” Naomi grasped at the only straw of hope she could think of. “Soon there will be a new baby, don’t you think?”
Mattie turned her face into the pillow and brought her knees up. Her arms were crossed over her stomach, protecting the baby that was no longer there. “But we will never have this child.” Her voice was as empty as her womb. “This baby is gone. No other child will take her place. Even if we have another baby someday, it won’t be this baby.” Mattie looked up at Naomi again. “Think of what it would be like if Davey was gone. Remember when he was lost, and you thought he might never be found?”
Naomi nodded, her throat tight as she remembered those long hours.
“Would another little boy ever take his place? Would you want him to?”
Naomi shook her head. “I wasn’t thinking when I said that. I’m sorry.”
Mattie gave her a thin smile and Naomi stood up.
“You’re exhausted, and you need a good meal. Let me fix dinner for you and Jacob.”
Her si
ster nodded. “That sounds good. Denki.”
When Naomi looked back as she reached the bedroom door, Mattie’s face was turned toward the window, as if she could see the little grave from her pillow.
Going into the kitchen, Naomi dabbed at her eyes with the hem of her apron. She would do anything to help Mattie feel better, but there was nothing she could do.
In the kitchen, she found eggs in a bowl on the counter. She built up the fire and found a frying pan under the kitchen shelf. Ham and eggs would make a quick, simple meal. As she worked, she wondered what Mamm would say to Mattie. Would she say that God was in control?
Naomi broke an egg on the side of her mixing bowl with such force that the egg broke in two and both the bowl and the shelf were covered in egg shell and whites, with the yolk bleeding onto everything.
If God was in control, babies wouldn’t die. Old men wouldn’t get sick. Little boys wouldn’t get lost.
She cleaned up the broken egg and threw it into the slop pail.
If she could, she’d tell God a thing or two about how he controlled his world.
16
Christian hadn’t been on the porch when Cap arrived, so he had gone out back to the woodpile to begin splitting more firewood. After he had an armload done, he gathered up the pieces to take into the house.
“Annalise?” He peered in the open door. No one was around, so he placed the split wood in the wood box by the stove as quietly as he could. He glanced toward the bedroom off the kitchen. The door was open.
“Cap? Is that you?” Christian’s voice came from the bedroom.
Cap crossed the kitchen to the open door. Christian sat on the edge of his bed, one boot on and unfastened. He held the other one in his hand.
“Good morning,” Cap said.
Christian smiled, the sparkle in his eyes was back. “I told Annalise I could put my own boots on, so she took the children berry picking.” He lifted the boot in his hand. “But this task is still beyond me, I’m afraid.”
“Let me help you.” Cap knelt in front of his friend and eased the second boot on his stockinged foot. He snugged the laces tight and tied them off.
Christian leaned forward until his weight was on his feet and stood. Cap extended a hand to balance him, but Christian didn’t need it.
“Every day gets easier.” Christian took a slow step, then another, making his way toward the door. “Except for the shoes, I handled everything myself this morning.”
Cap followed him to the kitchen. “You’re getting along better than we could have hoped a few weeks ago.”
Christian eased himself into a chair at the table. He pointed toward the shelf next to the sink. “Annalise left my tea there for me. Would you bring it over? And there’s a pot of coffee on the back of the stove, if you’d like a cup.”
Cap set the teacup in front of Christian, then poured his cup of coffee and set the pot back on the stove. He stared into the dark liquid. He had forgotten about the coffee Naomi had poured for him this morning. He had left it sitting on the table in the Schrocks’ kitchen.
“Is anything wrong?”
Cap gave himself a mental shake and turned toward Christian with a smile. “Nothing a cup of coffee won’t take care of.”
He took a seat across the table from the older man.
“But there is something wrong.” Christian stared at him under bushy brows.
“I had a disagreement with Naomi this morning.” Cap wanted to shrug it away, but the argument weighed on him.
“Um hm.” Christian took a swallow of his tea.
“I told her she should change how she’s raising Davey.”
The bushy eyebrows went up.
“I know. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“How did she take it?”
Cap squirmed in his chair. “She ran off to her room and slammed the door.”
“Um hm.”
“She’s spoiling the boy.” Cap leaned his elbows on the table. “Don’t you think so?”
Christian settled back in his chair, fingering the handle of his mug. “It isn’t my place to say.”
Cap dug the side of his thumb in a space between two planks on the table. “It wasn’t my place to say, either, was it?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve watched you and Naomi together. And Davey has a special place in your heart. You’re the father he hasn’t had since his parents died.”
“Davey and I have talked about that. I told him he could think of me as his daed.”
“And he’s the son you’ve never had.”
Cap glanced at Christian, but the older man wasn’t looking at him.
“I had a son, but he died at birth. I lost my wife the same day.”
“Then we have something in common. I have also lost a son and three daughters.” Christian sighed. “The ache is like no other.”
A wrenching pain went through Cap’s heart as he looked at Christian’s face. The grief still showed, but like Cap’s, time had softened the memories. They sat in silence while Cap finished his coffee.
“Do you plan to marry again?”
“Ja, for sure. When I find the right woman.”
“How long has it been?”
Cap dug his thumb into the plank again. “Seven years.”
“Could it be that you don’t want to find the right woman?”
Cap eyed Christian. When God had selected him as a minister, he had chosen the right man. Christian’s questions picked at his old wounds like a boy picked at his scabby knees. “I don’t want to settle for just anyone.”
“It seems that maybe you aren’t willing to see the woman who is right in front of your eyes.”
Tall and slender, Naomi filled his vision. She wasn’t just anyone. “After our disagreement this morning, I doubt if she’ll even want to talk to me again.”
Christian waved Cap’s words away with his hand. “She needs you. All you have to do is make her see that.”
Cap stood and took the two empty cups to the kitchen shelf. “I don’t think anyone can make Naomi do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
“You’re probably right. But I have a feeling she’s waiting for you to show her that you’re the man she’s been waiting for.”
Cap let the words sink in as he picked up his hat from the table where he had dropped it. He ran his finger along the edge of the brim. He had been intent on his own needs, but had never considered Naomi’s needs.
“I have more firewood to split.” Cap paused at the door. “Do you really think Naomi has been waiting for a husband?”
Christian smiled. “I think Naomi has been waiting for you.”
When he reached the woodpile, Cap pulled his ax out of the chopping block and set a length of log on it. He swung the ax down, splitting the seasoned wood in two. As he leaned down to put one of the halves back on the chopping block, Naomi’s face flashed through his mind again.
Marry her? He swung the ax. Of course he’d marry her, if she’d have him. Another log, another swing of the ax.
He had never known a more independent woman, though. Christian could be wrong. She seemed to think that Davey was enough of a family for her.
He split another log, then leaned on the ax handle.
That would be a burden for the boy to have his mother depend on him like that. She needed a husband, if only so that she would put Davey in his proper place instead of the center of her life.
Cap wiped his face on his sleeve. He had been right when he told Naomi that she worshiped the boy, but how could he make her see that her priorities were upside down? He glanced at the sky. He wasn’t used to praying when he wasn’t at the dinner table or in church, but the God who had sought him out was the only one who could show Naomi what she needed to see.
Naomi walked home slowly while Davey chattered next to her. Jethro was getting bigger. He ran faster than the other lambs. How long would it take before he had horns? Her head throbbed.
“Davey, why don’t you run ahead home. You can tell
Henry all about the lamb.”
“Can I? Can I run all the way?”
Naomi nodded and Davey wrapped his arms around her waist in a tight hug. Once he was out of sight, she sank down onto a tree stump at the side of the road and buried her head in her hands. What a terrible, terrible day. Her argument with Cap had spoiled the morning, and then Mattie’s news placed a burden on her that she couldn’t bear. She wrapped her arms around her waist and rocked. If only she could talk to someone, but Mattie had been adamant. She and Jacob would bear their tragedy alone. But they had each other. Who could Naomi share her grief with?
She caught sight of movement up the road and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Cap strode down the road from Christian’s farm, carrying his ax. When he spotted Naomi, he ran to her and set the ax on the ground.
“What is it? Are you all right?”
He took her hands in his, as if they had never had an argument this morning. His concern brought tears once more. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close while she cried. Once the tears slowed, he sat back on his heels and lifted her chin.
“Are you hurt?”
Naomi shook her head.
“Is it Davey?”
She shook her head again.
“Tell me what is wrong, then.”
“I can’t tell you.”
Cap let go of her hands and stood, pacing across the road and back. “I’m sorry that we argued this morning. I said things that I shouldn’t have.”
She shook her head once more. “I’m not crying about that.” She stared at the toes of his work shoes. “Although that was an awful way to start my day.”
He knelt in front of her again. “I’m sorry.”
She sniffed and looked down the road. He waited.
“I’m sorry too.” She sniffed again. “Maybe some of the things you said were right. Davey is . . . a little spoiled.”
He picked up his ax again and reached for her hand. “I’ll walk you home.”
Naomi shook her head. “I can’t go home like this. Mamm will see that I’ve been crying, and she’ll ask about it, and then I’ll have to tell her.”
“Then walk the long way around with me. We’ll go to my farm, and then through the woods. By the time we reach your house, you will have forgotten all about your troubles.”
